


Desperation

by xxenjoy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, M/M, Masturbation, Sex Curse, ish, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Six times," Dean grits out, and Sam just continues to look at him, waiting. Fine, if he wants to know, he can damn well know. "I've jerked off six times since I woke up, and it won't fucking go down."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> So I've had this plotted out and shoved aside for _months_ and yesterday I thought of one line and the whole thing kind of tumbled out of my brain. I've never written more than a few paragraphs in present tense before, so I don't really know how it turned out, but what the hell, I thought I'd try something new.

Dean kicks at the garbage littering the parking lot, taking his frustrations out on an already mangled Pepsi Max can. Sam and Cas are standing opposite, next to the chain link fence, waiting until the steady stream of cars on the street stops and they can duck through the gaping hole without being noticed, or reported. Trespassing is a minor offence considering their lives, but they've been doing this for _years_ and Dean is not about to get caught up on some stupid not-case like this one.

"This place is a fuckin' mess," he grumbles, "why are we here again?"

"This is the last place all the victims were seen," Sam explains for what must be the fourth of fifth time, judging by the expression on his face, "if you're not gonna pay attention, why do you bother asking? - Now," he adds, ducking - with some difficulty - under the edge of the fence and hurrying down dirt path. Dean lets Cas sneak through before him, noting the unusually intense frown on the angel's face. Cas is never particularly cheery, but he looks sincerely put out about something today. As Dean slips through the fence, just missing snagging his sleeve on the wire, he chalks it up to a bad day. Angels are entitled to bad days, just like the rest of them, right? And so far, this one has been pretty damn awful.

It only gets worse as a thorough search turns up exactly nothing, and Dean is on his last thread of patience waiting for Sam to get off the phone with Bobby. He turns to Cas, intending to ask him what's wrong, hopefully talk about _anything_ that isn't this stupid case, but he stops when he sees him. Cas is slouched back against the fence, eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched tight as he palms at himself through his slacks. Dean groans, scrubbing both hands over his face because really? This is the last fucking thing he wants to deal with today. Resignedly, he lets out a deep breath and crosses over to the angel, closing one hand around Cas' upper arm, and turns him so he's facing toward Dean, away from Sam. Cas just looks up and blinks at him, and it takes most of Dean's restraint not to dig his fingers into Cas' arm. This does explain the mood, though. 

"Dude, not in public," he grunts. He's still annoyed with everything else and he _really_ doesn't want to talk about this, period. Even if it is, unfortunately, important. Cas shoots him an I-could-kill-you-right-now look and Dean's arm falls to his side. He tries to turn away, shaking his head, but Cas is twisting him around so they're face-to-face again.

"I know you feel it too," Cas growls, low enough that Sam won't hear him, "something's _wrong_ , Dean."

"Nothing's _wrong_ Cas, you're horny, it happens." He turns away and Cas lets him go this time, heaving a heavy sigh behind him, and yeah, maybe he's right. Maybe something _is_ wrong, because Dean had jerked off _three times_ before they left the motel, and he doesn't remember being this hard for this long since he was fucking seventeen. He runs through their morning and the previous night in his head, almost debating asking Sam how he's _feeling_ to see if maybe they handled some sort of cursed object or something. When Sam comes over to him wearing a smug grin, Dean's pretty sure that whatever it is, his brother hasn't been affected by it. 

"Bobby's found us a witness," Sam beams, way too fucking pleased with himself, "let's head back, get changed and head over." Dean barely offers him more than a grunted _mmhm_ , before their piling back into the car and pulling out onto the street.

Dean locks himself in the bathroom as soon as their in the room, shoving his pants to his ankles and dropping onto the closed toilet seat as he takes himself in his had. He's too blinded by need to realize - or care, for that matter - that Cas at least, knows exactly what he's doing. Sliding his hand up, he crooks one finger over the head, spreading the collected pre-come down the length of his dick. It doesn't take long, a minute or so, before he's coming over his fist, biting down sharply on his bottom lip to keep himself quiet - Sam and Cas may know what's going on, but they don't have to _hear_ it too.

He drops his head back against the wall at an awkward angle, letting his hand drift absently over his dick. His breathing returns to normal and his heartbeat slows, but he's still hard and that nagging sensation of _want_ is already pressing at the back of his mind again. Tightening his grip a little, he gives in, telling himself it's better to get it over with before it gets bad again. It takes longer this time, and his lip is going to be permanently bruised if he has to take much more of this. 

The third time he waits until he can't stand the pressure anymore. He's on the floor now, leaning against the wall because he's pretty sure he's going to have a handle-shaped bruise in his back to match the ones on his lip. Each stroke is bordering on uncomfortable now, and Dean's really fucking thankful for the spare bottle of lube stashed in the inside pocket of his jacket, despite the little difference it makes.

Sam had started banging on the door halfway through his second round, and he hasn't let up. He keeps whinging about the case and how they have to go interview a witness and Dean's pretty sure he's going to be sitting in the bathroom jerking off until his dick falls off. He groans and bangs his head back against the wall. He's going to kill whoever did this to him. This has to be some kind of sick joke - haha, you sleep around a lot, now you're going to masturbate to death - and then he remembers Cas. It's not just _him_ , and Cas definitely hasn't been sleeping around, and after the incident at the brothel, Dean's pretty damn positive the angel is still a virgin. An unexpected image of Cas pops into his head sprawled out of the bed, panting and sweaty. Dean's dick gives a twitch of interest and he groans into his hands. No. This day is fucked up enough as it is, he doesn't need the guilt of getting off to his best friend who just so happens to be a _angel_. He's pretty sure that's a one-way ticket back to the pit.

Before he can think about it any more, Dean shoves himself up off the floor, barging through the door without worrying about hitting Sam on his way out. He yanks his jacket from his shoulders and slouches on the spare bed - Cas is sitting on the other, and Dean very carefully avoids looking anywhere on that side of the room. Sam looks somewhere between pissed off and concerned, but he settles for the former. The first words out of his mouth are _what the hell, Dean?_

"We have a fucking job to do, you know."

"Dude, I'm out of commission- don't even think about taking Cas," he adds as Sam turns back toward the other bed. Dean's gaze follows, unthinking, and he's met with a look of great concentration, features pinched tightly together as one of Cas' hands rubs over the bulge in his pants. He looks like his hand is moving on its own, and he's trying to stop it with only his thoughts. It would be funny, Dean thinks, if he didn't know exactly how he was feeling. Sam looks between them, obviously unimpressed and demanding to know what the hell is going on.

"Six times," Dean grits out, and Sam just continues to look at him, waiting. Fine, if he wants to know, he can damn well know. "I've jerked off six times since I woke up, and it won't fucking go down." Sam's irritation fades into something like sympathy and he turns to Cas.

"You too?" He asks. Dean can't see his face with Sam standing between the beds, but he hears Cas' whimper and has to fist his hands into the bedspread to keep himself from shoving one down the front of his jeans. 

"Fuck," he whines, "I can't do this." 

"Okay, uh, you guys sit tight," Sam stutters, "I'll call Charlie, see if she can help me out and uh- I'll get another room when I get back."

"I don't care what you do, just hurry the fuck up so we can figure this out."

Sam's barely out the door when the bathroom door slams shut and Cas' bed is suddenly empty. Dean groans and rolls onto his side, trying to focus on anything but the sounds coming through the door. He squeezes his eyes shut and pushes his face into the pillow thinking maybe if he can fall asleep, he'll sleep it off. A lot of spells only last twenty-four hours, hopefully this is one of them. If it's even a spell. Fuck, he hopes it is. He can call Bobby, he thinks suddenly, the guy's got practically infinite knowledge of everything supernatural, if anyone can help it's him. A low whine escapes his lips unbidden, and he realizes he's going to have to wait to call Bobby, there are more pressing matters at this precise moment. 

Bobby - bless him - picks up on the first ring. He grumbles about being interrupted while he's eating, but Dean presses on regardless.

"What do you know about sex spells?" he asks, speaking too quickly in his rush to get this conversation over and done with before he needs to take care of business again. Cas still hasn't come out of the bathroom, and the sounds he's making are decreasing the time Dean can wait drastically. 

"Hello to you too," Bobby grunts, "do I wanna know?"

"No," Dean says bluntly, "but if you don't tell me everything you know, I will explain in detail." Bobby clunks around a little and his voice comes back over the line, announcing he's found something - possibly.

"So what do I gotta do?" Dean seethes, pressing a hand to his crotch to relieve some of the pressure. His hips are working on their own and it's getting increasingly difficult to speak steadily.

"Wait," Bobby replies, and Dean lets out the groan he's been holding back, though it comes out more whiney than desperate, thankfully. "If it's a spell, it should wear itself out after twenty-four hours." Dean's never been so unhappy to find out he was probably right about something. He thanks Bobby and hangs up, tossing his phone across the room in frustration.

Flopping onto his stomach, he thinks back to this morning, trying to calculate how much longer he has to deal with this. They got up at six - seven? - this morning, some ungodly hour because Sam insisted on getting an early start. It's nearly six now, so he - they, Dean reminds himself - have twelve or thirteen hours to wait this out. He's going to kill someone before then. At any rate, he should let Cas know what he has to look forward to. He reaches a hand out to bang on the bathroom door and stops himself, belatedly realizing he's rolling his hips against the mattress. With more effort than he cares to admit, Dean pulls himself into a sitting position and knocks on the door. 

The door pulls inwards and Cas peers sheepishly out at him, looking like he would rather be anywhere else in the world. Dean couldn't agree more.

"Just um- I just got off the phone with Bobby," he manages, "he uh, said it's probably a spell and it," he has to stop, gripping the bedspread again until he relaxes, "it should wear off in twenty-four hours."

"Good," Cas says simply, and Dean can hardly blame him for the irritation in his voice. Dean hears the sound of a zipper and then the door opens and Cas face plants the bed, digging his nails into the mattress.

"Yeah, Dude, tell me about it."

After a few hours, Dean has completely given up any semblance of privacy. Their clothes are scattered around the room, both of them tucked into their respective beds in nothing but their underwear. It's nothing short of torture now, and Dean can't remember the last time either of them bothered to get up and hide away in the bathroom. It should be weird as hell, jerking off with another guy - his friend, no less - sitting five feet away from him, but disturbingly enough, it's not even the strangest thing to happen that _day_. And if Dean finds it easier, less painful to come listening to Cas find his own release, then that's his own business. 

Sam drops dinner off for him not too much later, leaving it outside the door after Dean frantically texts him not to come in. He doesn't question it, and Dean's thankful for that, even more thankful when he realizes Sam got him pie. All else aside, Sam is a pretty awesome little brother. Sitting down to eat, Dean manages to ignore everything else for a few minutes. Unfortunately, Cas doesn't have food to distract him, and before long Dean is coming again, pulled in by the rough drag of Cas' breath.

It lasts longer than twenty-four hours and Dean wants to cry or die, or both. He wonders vaguely if he could drown himself in his own tears, and in his sleepless mind, he tries to calculate how much he would have to cry before he could drown. A pained whimper draws his attention and he turns to face Cas where he's curled himself into a ball under the covers. Dean hopes that he's asleep, and dreaming, but he's pretty sure that's not the case. The only times he's seen Cas sleep, he was drained of his power and he hasn't seemed to have any issues with it today - yesterday, he doesn't even know what day it is anymore. 

"I thought this was only supposed to last twenty-four hours?" Cas whines. 

"It's obviously not a spell," Dean replies, equally desperate, "cursed object maybe? You touch anything funny lately?"

"Nothing Sam didn't also touch, Dean, I-" He turns away and Dean understands, rolling to face away from him. He's managed to ignore the throbbing in his groin for nearly five minutes, he has about a minute left, probably less, until it gets so painful that he has to deal with it. 

He comes again and doesn't realize until he's sinking back into the bed, that he had been thinking about Cas, about his dick and the way his fingers would wrap around the hard flesh- a low whine escapes his throat, and Dean pushes the images away before he can make things worse for himself. He just wants it to be over, has wanted it to be over since it started. Closing his eyes again, he rolls onto his back and wishes that Sam or Bobby would figure something out. 

He doesn't realize Cas is climbing onto his bed until the angel is practically straddling him. The hard length of Cas' erection presses against his leg and Dean's own dick pulses, much to his displeasure. 

"Not helping Cas," he groans, but despite his protests, his hands are coming up to brush against the back of Cas' thighs. 

"Dean," he whispers, "can I-?"

"Can you what?" Dean snaps, a little too quickly. It's rude, he knows, and Cas is stuck in the same awful position that he is, but he's got no idea when the fuck this is going to end, and he just wants to sleep. Whatever the fuck Cas wants to do, he can do it himself. Cas disagrees. 

He slides up to sit on Dean's thighs and tilts forward, shoving a hand into Dean's boxers with no hesitation. Dean winces, expecting the same pain and sensitivity as when he touches himself - it's nothing like that at all. He lets out a shaky breath and relaxes back into pillows he's got stacked up behind him.

"Oh. Oh, Cas," the words come out with a whine, "don't stop. Don't stop." It feels good, fucking amazing, like no one has touched him in years. Cas doesn't stop. His free hand moves up, sliding along the bare skin of Dean's chest, experimentally grazing a nipple and grinning at the moan that drags itself out of Dean's throat. Dean lifts his hips, rocking gently into Cas' tunnelled fingers. For the first time all day, all he wants is this, Cas' hands on his dick and shockwaves pulsing through his entire body. Cas whines, and it reminds Dean again, that Cas is in this with him. He sits up a little straighter, wrapping his hand around Cas' free arm and tugging him closer. 

"C'mere," he mumbles, pressing his forehead to Cas' as he shifts to cup the bulge in the angel's underwear. The moan he gets in return is enough to send his hips jerking up harshly. Cas is all but shaking above him, all his weight supported by his knees, and his forehead against Dean's. Dean's finger slip beneath Cas' waistband, pushing the fabric away impatiently and Cas squirms out of his boxers, kicking them to the end of the bed. Dean groans a little too enthusiastically as his hands slip over Cas' bare ass, letting one continue up his back while the other moves around to circle his dick. Cas moans and presses his hips forward, and Dean can't help but stare at him, the blatant lust in his eyes, the way his eyes pinch shut with each forward thrust. 

Cas leans back a little, shifting down the bed and Dean doesn't know how Cas can stand to pull away, because he's pretty sure if Cas stops touching him even for a second, he's going to die. A low moan breaks his thoughts. His boxers are pulled down roughly and wet heat is engulfing him, sliding easily down the length of his dick and fuck it's amazing and he's barely able to keep himself from fucking up into Cas' mouth and taking what he needs. But even through the constant chant of _fuckfuckfuck_ that he's not sure is entirely in his head anymore, a little voice whispers that this is more than just two people helping each other out, that maybe this _thing_ that's been hanging between them since, well since the _barn_ , is finally coming to a head. The already tiny voice is completely drowned out by a whine as Cas tongues at his slit and winds his tongue around the head of his dick.

"Oh _fuck_ , Cas-" he moans, "fuck _yes_." Dean's pretty sure this is the best he's ever felt, and he's not sure if it's because he's spent the entire day in pain, or because it's _Cas_. It's like everything is falling into place, and as terrifying as that thought should be when he's having his dick sucked by an angel, a very _male_ angel, it kind of feels right. Without letting himself dwell on it, he jerks Cas back up into his lap, pressing their lips together less carefully than he had intended. For an instant, he's afraid Cas will pull away but then Cas is kissing him back, pushing his tongue past Dean's lips as he rocks in his lap. 

"Cas-" Dean breathes, "Cas I- can I..." he rolls his eyes at his own nervousness but Cas kisses him lightly, and Dean meets his eyes, "I want to fuck you." Cas lets out a ragged moan, and kisses a line along Dean's jaw.

"Yes," he groans, "yes, Dean." Dean's hands act faster than he can think, smoothing down Cas' back and down over his ass. 

He only half knows what he's doing, but Cas is soft and compliant above him, kissing Dean's neck and jaw. Dean pushes a hand between his cheeks, rubbing over the puckered ring of Cas' entrance. His motions are stiff and awkward, but Cas is all but limp in his arms, nuzzling against his neck and rolling his hips in time with Dean's touches. He whines and bucks his hips as Dean pushes a finger through the ring, pressing back onto him with a contented sigh. 

Pleas and praise fall from Cas' lips as Dean works him open, less and less concerned about his own ability with each little mark Cas is sucking into his skin. He's thrusting into Cas with three fingers now, grazing over his prostate with every few strokes and Dean's damn near desperate for release. It doesn't hurt this time though, it's almost a pleasant feeling. He wants Cas, _fuck_ does he want Cas. More than he's ever wanted anyone in his life, he doesn't know how to _have_ him,but he can do this. He pulls out of Cas and the angel looks down on him almost pleasingly. He shifts, placing himself strategically on Dean's hips, and rocks back against his dick. 

"Cas, are you- this is okay, right? I mean, this isn't just cos of-" he lifts one hand from Cas' hip and waves it vaguely between them. Cas smiles at him, full on smiles and catches Dean's mouth in a gentle kiss. 

"No, Dean." He leans in again and Dean slides his arms around Cas' chest, rolling them over so he's grinning down at the angel. He kisses a line down Cas' chest before aligning himself with Cas. He nudges in slowly, watching Cas' face for any hint of discomfort, but there's nothing and Cas presses back onto him with a moan, bottom lip trapped between his teeth in a way that makes Dean want to lean in and bite it himself. He thrusts forward and Cas' gasps as he bottoms out. 

It's hot and almost too tight, but Dean forces himself to draw back just a little before pushing back in again. Cas groans, and hooks one leg around Dean's hips, drawing him closer until their chests press together and he can get both ankles around Dean. There's something about having Cas wrapped around him that makes Dean lose it a little and he's running his fingertips through Cas' hair, hips rolling slow and steady into him. He leans down to kiss him, thrusting a little faster as a wave of pleaser washes over him. 

Cas meets each of his thrusts, dragging his fingers through Dean's hair to pull him into a kiss. It's a little awkward to keep their lips together when they're both moving, but Cas makes up for it by trailing kisses over every inch of skin that he can reach and digging blunt nails into Dean's ass, dragging him closer. Dean hums, he presses his head into the pillow next to Cas' ear and thrusts deep, savouring each little gasp and moan from Cas. 

" _Dean_ ," he mumbles, "Dean, I need-"

"I know," Dean breathes, sliding one hand out of Cas' hair to wrap around his dick. "You wanna come, Cas?" The angel whines and arches up as Dean starts to stroke him. The barely audible _fuck_ that falls from hips lips brings a smile to Dean's face, and he bends to kiss Cas again, nipping gently at his lips. It doesn't take long before Cas is writhing underneath him, bucking up into every touch and mumbling Dean's name into his neck. 

Cas pulls him down into a clumsy kiss as he comes, groaning into Dean's mouth and thrusting up hard into his hand. He stills after a moment, tipping his head back, and Dean takes advantage of the angle, running his lips up Cas' neck as he picks up the pace again. Cas moves with him, nips at his shoulders and neck, running his tongue over Dean's skin and Dean feels like he's on fire. Heat coils within him and he forces his eyes to stay open, locked on Cas. 

" _Fuck_ , Cas, I'm-" he drops his chin, but Cas lifts it, kissing him once before their eyes lock again and Dean comes, panting and thrusting up roughly. Cas leans up, cupping his jaw and kissing his cheeks until Dean collapses against him. 

He rolls to the side and they're both quiet for a long time, heads tipped back against the pillows and just waiting. It's ten minutes before Dean laughs lightly and breaks the silence. 

"I uh, I think it's... done." He runs a hand down his chest, brushing fingertips over his soft dick. "I, uh, I'm sorry," he mumbles, "I wish this could have happened differently." Cas tilts his head and raises his eyes to meet Dean's, and despite the fear that's trying to claw its way through him, he can't help thinking how perfect Cas looks lying next to him. It's stupid and sappy and everything that he tries to avoid, but a little smile breaks through his frown. Cas lifts a hand to brush his fingers along the underside of Dean's jaw. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I uh-" shit. It's a lot harder to get out than he thought it would be. He looks pleadingly a Cas, silently begging him to understand, but he just keeps staring at him. "Um, _this_ ," he mumbles, "you and me, uh... _us_. This was kind of a shitty way for me to realize..."

"I understand." Cas smiles at him and turns onto his side, throwing an arm over Dean's hips, "but we can talk later. You need to sleep."

"What about you?" Dean asks, shifting to face Cas.

"I'll watch over you," he smiles again and Dean can't help but kiss him before pulling him closer and manoeuvring them both so he can cover them with the bedspread. 

He doesn't know how long he slept for, but when Dean wakes up, Sam is sitting on the bed across from him, and Cas' limbs are tangled with his own. He forgoes stretching to press his lips subtly into Cas' shoulder and is relieved to find he's dressed from the waist down. He grins at Cas and receives another kiss in return, hands sliding up Dean's bare chest. 

"Don't get too comfortable," Sam warns from across the room, "now that you two have done your thing and realized what everyone else already knew," he puts extra emphasis on the last few words, and Dean can picture his face without having to see him. "Can we get back to the case now? We've got another missing person." Dean hums against Cas, only half paying attention until he repeats Sam's words over in his head. He stops suddenly and Cas cocks his head in confusion.

"What did you just say?" Dean demands, half turning to face his brother.

"Um?"

"About us figuring out our thing or whatever."

"Dude, everyone knew you and Cas had a... thing, we were all just waiting for you two to figure it out."

"So you could say we learned a _lesson_?" Dean asks. Sam continues to stare at him in confusion, but Dean jerks up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed, already stalking over to where his bag is sitting. "Dude, there were candy wrappers _everywhere_."

"And?"

"You got any idea how to summon an archangel?"

**Author's Note:**

> The original 'title' that I had for this was Gabe is Tricky With Sex Spells, so that's why the title is blah - because I couldn't think past the dumb name I gave it when I first decided to write it XD


End file.
